Of Dragon Pox & New Year's Eve
by pumpkinnox20
Summary: Everyone expected Draco Malfoy to marry someone who resembled his mother. She would have to be a pureblood, with regal posture and constantly wrinkled nose as if someone had put a bag of dragon dung under it. But little did they know that Astoria Greengrass, wouldn't be a spitting image of Narcissa Malfoy, but a woman far kinder than anyone could possibly imagine.


Everyone expected Draco Malfoy to marry someone who resembled his mother. She would have to be, they speculated, a pureblood, with regal posture and constantly wrinkled nose as if someone had put a bag of dragon dung under it. She would have to stay home all day, married into a family too rich to be persuaded into working. That is, when she wouldn't be relaxing by their pool (because they obviously had to have a pool).

But little did they know that Astoria Greengrass, while pureblood with a regal posture, wouldn't be a spitting image of Narcissa Malfoy, but a woman far kinder and far warmer than anyone could possibly imagine.

They never thought of a girl sorted into Slytherin, two years Draco's junior, because of her ambition to become a world renowned Healer and probably too shy for her own good. A girl that never participated in social activities because she simply didn't have that many friends and preferred to be alone than in the middle of a crowd that made the loneliness she had always felt stand out.  
Through years, she would become an excellent student, but in the endless shadow of her older sister, Daphne, even though she was the smarter one, the prettier one. Nobody who thought that Draco Malfoy would marry a copy of his mother thought of all the tears she'd silently cried through nights and nights in her family manor, finally deciding to move out at the age of seventeen.

It was impossible for a girl of such a noble birth to rent a small flat above a dingy pub in Diagon Alley and work her days off in hope to achieve a small fortune that could pay for her Healer school. Good grades meant nothing when you had left your home at seventeen and decided to prove your worth, penniless.

Still, nothing would bring Astoria down. Her surname might've been Greengrass but she would prove that she hadn't been a rich child, brought up in luxury and comfort that completely clouded her vision of everything else.

Fortunately, she never gave up. She worked off all those seemingly endless shifts in the pub, endured the maltreatment with grace and poise (and a few curses, of course – she was a Slytherin, wasn't she?) and enrolled in the Healer training programme on the eve of her twentieth birthday. It was all worth it, she thought, packing away a raggedy apron from her days in the pub and taking off all of her clothes in front of a mirror to try the lime green coat on her naked body, the lime green coat she was destined to wear.

And if it weren't for that ambition to succeed in life without a wealthy husband, Draco Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass would've never fallen in love and he would indeed marry a younger version of Narcissa.

But fate wouldn't have it. So Draco Malfoy wounded up in St. Mungo's on New Year's Eve while he should've been on a glorious dinner in honour of celebrating the arrival of year 2003. At first, he didn't take the greenish hue of his skin as something serious but when he'd come down with an extremely high fever, Draco finally realized the joke was on his expense and agreed to depart to St. Mungo's that instant.

Sulking all the way through his examination and finally placed in bed with strict instructions to take Gunhilda of Gorsemoor's famous potion for Dragon Pox every three hours, Draco was grief stricken. He might be out of the hospital in three days, but New Year's Eve was unfolding before his very eyes and there was little left to do but lie in the bed and watch the clock ticking away the precious moments he could've spent dancing and talking to his friends. The little he had left, anyways.

At the same time, Astoria was one of the rare few left on duty that night and she'd been boring herself out of her mind. There was only so little one could do on a New Year's Eve while tending to the patients in hospital. But even they fell asleep, the perpetual silence coming to a halt only with intermittent screaming of a man that had been turned into a tiger by his wife that wouldn't have any of his nonsense about staying at home this particular evening.

Then her mind seemed to eclipse with a brilliant idea. She knew there was a man in this hospital that was bored to death, being stuck in here on the most thrilling and sensational night in the whole year. And, after all, she was a Healer and the basic definition of her job was to help people whatever way she could. So she'd help him and she'd help herself.

Grabbing her coat from the hanger, completely plain and dull coat – the most she could afford then, she rushed to the second floor, room five, with only one thought on her mind, completely innocent and unknowing, and that was to make a sick man laugh – at least for a moment.

Draco Malfoy had been startled when someone barged into his room just half an hour before the clock would strike midnight, but he had been shocked even more upon learning that it was a charming young Healer about his age.

She practically knocked the door off its hinges, with a wide smile upon her generally attractive face and eyes that might've sparkled, or it might've been the particular lighting in his room.

„Hello!"  
„Uh, good evening?"

Nothing would get her out of balance, he noticed, as she didn't even pause to admire his reserve and perhaps think her idea through. He liked that.

„I was wondering if you had any plans for tonight?"

That made him laugh quite sincerely, the way he hadn't laughed for a long while.

„No, I can't think of any. I am in here, aren't I?"

Her smile grew into a devilish grin as she threw his coat, meticulously folded and placed on a chair next to his bed, at him and winked.

„That's what I thought. Get up!"  
„But- but I have dragon pox!"  
„Now then, you're taking a potion and a little fresh air certainly won't hurt you!" her face shone with amusement while her lips began to purse in a most lovely manner. If she had been aggravated, she didn't let it show but instead beamed with joy and affection he rarely encountered. With people it was either anger they felt towards him, or fear. There wasn't any affection, not really.

„Get your arse off that bloody bed already!" she shouted, leaning at the doorway, and fled down the corridor. He had to run to keep up with her and he barely noticed when they'd made a stop in the Healer's lounge and finally ended up on the rooftop.

The view was stunning. Big Ben had been lit up like never before and the Thames was filled with miniature boats, full of Muggles hoping to see the shining lights up in the sky from down below. It must've made a man exceptionally humble.

But the whole view seemed unreal, as if it had been a painting, not real life that was unfolding before his eyes. Lights shone so bright and Draco thought that must've been the most brilliant thing he had ever seen.

It wasn't until Astoria discretely coughed that he realized he wasn't alone on the rooftop. He turned his back to all of that marvel, only to have it replaced by something equally beautiful. The lights reflected in her eyes, making them glisten and glitter all the while he had been staring into the abyss of hazel.

„It's my favourite thing, this rooftop", she began quietly, slightly shivering from the cold. She must've been freezing, that little, fiery thing. He took off his coat at once to drape it over her shoulders. Nodding in gratitude, she continued, „Everything seems bigger and better from up here, don't you think?"

He nodded in agreement, unable to say anything that would sound any better than the simple words she produced, but with such clarity it seemed solemn.

„Oh, but I'm sorry, I forgot to ask you – what's your name?"  
„Draco."  
„Malfoy?"  
„That's the one."

She hadn't been gloating, much to his surprise, but simply comfortingly smiled.

„I know you. You and Daphne, my sister, were in the same year."  
„Greengrass?"  
„Mhm."  
„I didn't know Daphne had a sister."

Look of hurt in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. She seemed so proud, but so kind, and in that instant he knew he had been a bloody fool for saying things like that.

She retracted to the bench near the edge. There was still a high invisible fence, enough for the people to think they're on the brink of life and death, and still perfectly safe for them to feel that way. That's what they all wanted, anyways. To be in danger, but to be safe. Perfect paradox.

„I'm sorry, I really didn't know. Were you in Slytherin?"  
„Yes."  
„Oh, Merlin..." he leaned his head on the brick wall behind his back and fought the sudden urge to slam his skull hard against it. But she giggled. She just let out a tiny giggle, much to his amazement.  
„It's fine. Honestly. It doesn't matter anymore. I'm Astoria."  
She held her hand in the space between them, and he took it in a handshake.

„Now that the awkward conversation about Daphne and me is over, how about we celebrate? New Year is quite near now", she glanced on her watch. Five more minutes. Taking out a bottle of champagne out of her bag, Astoria unscrewed the cork just enough for it to be lightly taken off when the right time comes.  
„Should I be drinking?"  
„It's champagne for children, I don't think it has any alcohol in it, but shush – we won't tell our parents", she conspiratively winked and laughed again.

Draco had just been suspecting he'd gone completely bonkers and this was all a hallucination induced by fever when the clock struck twelve and the fireworks went shooting into the sky. Golden, silvery, brilliant and dazzling sparks spread across the sky in the loveliest vision ever. He had a feeling that if he'd stretched out his arm a bit more, he could almost touch them. Funny thought now that Astoria was drawing nearer with two glasses of champagne in her hands, completely oblivious of the scene unfolding in the sky. She seemed used to it, but he wasn't. In his manor, or the ruins of it, you couldn't see the fireworks – it was too far away from any known cities, and all around his flat, modern buildings seemed to grow each day, shooting up in the sky. He hadn't seen the fireworks for a very, very long time.

„Happy New Year's", she beckoned, holding her glass up in the air.  
„Happy New Year's."

He drank away a little bit from his glass, bubbly substance burning his throat like liquid courage. It was no Felix Felicis, but it would be enough. He would've never dared to open his eyes if he hadn't felt a brush of her lips on his cheek, just a light peck and sudden drawing away. His mouth started opening, wanting to shout after her, but it quit upon finding she was still there, smirking.

„I- uh-„  
„I wasn't going to kiss you, just for the record."  
„Well, neither- neither was I!"

He felt rejected, and she was amused.

„You have dragon pox, you're contagious. But I'd love a dinner once you're healthy."

Oh. Oh. _Oh_.

„Do you like Italian food?"  
„I adore it."

They both turned away to see the last of fireworks bursting in the sky, accidentally brushing hands. It wouldn't be an accident, he decided, grabbing a feather-light hold of her hand. And they would be holding hands until the dawn when the Head Healer MacMillan would step out for a cigarette at the beggining of his shift, wondering where that new girl went, and find the pair sleeping, hugged near the exit, two coats draped over them – one completely plain and the other one exquisite, bringing out all the finest details of them both. And it would be like that for the rest of their lives, Draco thought a few decades later, that Astoria would bring out all of his reedeming qualities and make his life truly worth living.


End file.
